


To The Wonder

by Anemonepages



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 13:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18053801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anemonepages/pseuds/Anemonepages
Summary: Stiles doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this.





	To The Wonder

It hits him the most when it comes out of nowhere. He can brace himself when he’s expecting the tears prickling at his eyes, the crinkle in his brow because _how could he ever deserve something like this?_

But when he’s not prepared, sometimes it takes strength to stop his hands from shaking or his heart from breaking a rib or two. He has to clench his fists, use the pain to anchor the onslaught of emotions.

Which, _huh_ , how ironic, since he used to tell Derek off for cutting his own palms bloody. Used to pry his fingers away one by one, as gently as he could, cloth at the ready to wipe away the blood, smooth over the skin already healed.

He doesn’t have to do that much anymore.

His hands are usually busy tracing the planes of Derek’s everything - his face when he’s deep in sleep, his shoulders when he’s held against the wall, his chest when he’s riding him. His sides when the fancy strikes him, when he wants to see Derek writhe and wiggle and laugh.

But sometimes all he has to do is look over at the sourwolf, catch a glimpse of his smile as he talks to one of the pack, a flutter of his hand because animation is a thing he does now, and suddenly he feels like he’s seventeen again, young and afraid and scarred, terrified of his own thoughts and his own hands.

He’s still all those things, but more. There’s definition to his fear, gentle to his touch, lessons in his scars.

And so he’s learned how to love Derek so completely, so whole heartedly, without being swept away in those sea foam eyes. It’s not like how it was with Lydia; there isn’t a pedestal wreathed with flowers and flying banners. It’s quiet and modest and soft and nothing he ever thought it would be like but everything he needs. It’s everything to him.

The coffee he wakes up to and the looks shared across a room, the gentle nudge of a friend and the grip of a lover. Lunch at the diner with his dad, stories told in the shadow of moonlight, the heartbeat under his ears at night.

Sometimes he sends himself into a tizzy, can’t bear the thought of losing the home they’ve built. But Derek understands, in his own way. Knows too well of loss and heart ache. And so they hold each other close, press fingers into skin as reassurance, because _we’re here_

_She’s gone_

_They’re real_

_It’s over_

_It’s real_

 

 

 

_It’s real._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I love you,” he whispers, holding on that little bit tighter.

 

“I know.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first ever attempt at sterek, despite the hundreds upon hundreds of fics I’ve read because I can’t get enough. If you’ve stumbled upon this, I hope you like it.  
> (Derek and Stiles deserve the world)


End file.
